lost boy
by deaconlost
Summary: one shot. LOST BOY: a different take on chapter one of FSOG. broken down by all the request to do Anna's side. I succumbed to explain how CG got to the Ferris wheel. the story is finished. if any one wants to expand feel free to take it over, please do.
1. Chapter 1 lost boy:one shot

The night was stormy, with the rain driven sideways into the windows in the great room, looking out to what should have been the Sound, the great Ferris wheel and Space Needle to the north. Right now, all I see is darkness, and splatters of rain reflecting on myself. I sip my whiskey, loving the burn down my throat. At least it tells me I'm alive.

I watch the night, pace to the midnight hour. I wish someone, anyone was here. Right now. But I'm alone. Broken in soul and spirit. I hate my life, my family, myself most of all. I pour another tall glass of pain relief, dulling my mind, making me stumble about the room.

Laying my head on the cool glass, flinching as the rain strikes in loud pops, splattering on the outside glass. I feel the faint tremble of the violence. I want, need, wish, for I don't know anymore. Nothing is coming to chase my mind to peace. Music is a grating rasp on the chalkboard. Business is tasteless and hollow. How much money do I need. Want? Shit? I just pissed myself, standing here drunk.

Gail and Jason are down south in San Diego at a Friend's wedding. The family is in New York all week and weekend. I'm alone. Truly alone. I rid myself of Eliana and all her bullshit. I found the proof of her control, deceits, an avarice obsession. She's in a nut house down in Florida, the break shattered her mind, and body. My fist to her Botox face didn't help, but it felt good, wholesome, and healing even.

I stand in a puddle of my piss, dropping the empty glass. To shatter and shake the quiet stillness. I walk away to the Elevator. I need to escape my thoughts, my mind. I need to outrun them, knowing the impossible of the action to thought. But I try anyway.

I run in the gale force winds, the stinging cold rain, past the bright lite Christmas lights. It's Christmas eve, well I expect since it's after midnight; it's really Christmas day. Very early I think only one or two a.m... I run like the devil is pacing my shoulder. I push harder and harder. Till the air seizes my lungs, crashing me to the ground after bouncing off several cars. Till I'm face down in gutter.

I see a angel, holding me up. small kid, teenage brown hair head pressed to my chest. "heey don't tou_ me. your mine, pretttty girl. kiss _you_like_my playroom, fuc_uo_bow_eggy" I try to speak, but the words sound fine, straight and normal. She leads me to car. To a hotel room, cheap flop house place motel 6 or * or something like that. I think she going to sex me up.

The hot water feels good, as she washes me. I stare at my feet. Thru my hardon. The water is dirty, very dirty. Did I shit myself too? I don't know. As the wash cloth soap, and lathered cleans my man. My hard man. I just lean back. Feeling her breath and tongue on my back. Soft hair, making me see meadow of wild flowers. I shoot and shoot. Like I've never done before. I just hold myself against the vixen. She dries me, ruffling my head.

Blue orbs of soul searching depth. I smile at her, taking her head in my left hand, pulling her to my lips. Soft, sweet, making me, sober in my need to be inside of her. I rise, taking her to bed. I strip her cloths, the best I can. By the time she's only in panties. I'm laughing flat on the floor. She giggles at my drunk attempts to remove her cloths.

I crawl up the bed, her long legs. Kissing a sucking her toes. Caressing her knees, thighs. Resting my face in her pantie cover honeypot. Their wet, soaking for just me. her eyes are tightly shut. Her mouth curled and panting, as the orgasm slips into soul. I rip the panties, feasting like a starving man, which I realize I am.

It not the physical time since my last submissive. It's like. This is so much more. Than anything I've ever do. She trembles and withers under my tongue. The pinch of her nipples. I bring her to one orgasm the a another. Never missing I haven't fuck her, my normal needs would have been balls deep in her. Fucking her hard!

She pushes me on my back, mounting me. I see pain and misery in her face. I refocus and she rocking my cock. Like a rodeo bull rider. Rocking me, to one orgasm after another. Her face is angelic, with wild vixen smile and eyes. I hold her to my chest. Her hands stroking my chest. Se kisses the scar. Banishing the pain, the memories to the recess of mind. Replacing them with her, my blue-eyed angel. I slip into blissful sleep.

I wake sitting in my dry cloths in the park, next to Ferris Wheel. As dusk floats down the Sound. I shake my head. Did I dream it, all of it? I shake myself and walk home. Lost in the fear that it was just some fantasy, dream. I convince myself it must have been.

Staring at the mirror in my bathroom, naked. I stare at the reality that is was real. That she was in my arms. that I am cursed, cursed to be haunted by the blue eye siren. I smile. How the hell do I find her. The brown haired perfect blue-eyed woman that left all these hicks about my body. I shake my head. How will I ever reach heaven. How does one go about capturing a Angel?

I look at my schedule for the month. Nothing but work, oh yea. Next month an interview with the persistent asshole reporter from WSU down near Portland. I'll cancel, only a couple of months. Till I find Angel. Kavanagh is so frigging annoying, bugging the PR staff and her father bitching like a two year old to give his daughter a chance, I'll have to do it. maybe right before Graduation.

I stare at the freshly rinsed boxer day, staring at the reflection in the glass, of me. fifty shades of fucked up Grey. My eyes see no just me, but the angel behind me, holding me, loving me. I must find her, must have her. I let the feeling rampage over my fears and scars. I smile letting the fantasy in the glass, soothe me, make me a whole man. At least till I find her and make her my wife. Then and only then will I be whole, once and for all, forever. Till we are dust floating thru the universe.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

January 3

T-pov

We returned to Escala, Grey is pacing his office, searching every hotel in town, for a Brown-haired girl. Great some random girl has sparked his obsession with brown haired submissive. I try to change his mind, but I can't. I find him staring, frozen looking out his window. With a strange smile on his face, happy smile.

Gail holds me as we watch the lonely man, become happy and sad at the same time. She hugs me, if we can find the girl we will.

Xxxxxx

May 23

I watch a strange girl, not blonde Kate Kavanagh, enter the 20th floor to interview Grey for the WSU graduation issue. She enters Greys office falling, tripping on to her knees. Grey slide on his knees, kissing her. Slamming the door shut. "What the hell just happened?"


	2. Chapter 2 lost girl

Lost girl

Christmas eve

The morning was bright and sunny, brilliant red sky. The forecast is for a winter storm tonight, great, just frigging great. Trapped in Seattle, waiting for dad's seaplane to land very late this afternoon. Hope the truck can beat the storm home. I hate the world right now. I've sent a hundred resumes out without any returns. I watch the sea gulls huddle in the strengthening wind.

I wander the morning thru Pikes Market, thru the nearly empty stalls and deserted shops. Everyone with sense is hunkering down for the night. The empty street and market tell me, i should do the same. I sip my tea in the Tea shop on the lower reach of the Pike market mall. I've tried several brews, the sales girl a sullen teen, working the holiday under Mother's stern gaze.

I would have loved, to have had my mother's that concerned with me at that age. But she never was, will be. I'm the reason her life never turned out for her. She blames me for her failed marriages, fortunes and lately for her falling tits and growing muffin top. I sip my tea, hiding the hurt and pain.

I wander down to the Ferris wheel, I have just enough change to ride. But the winds have halted the ride, leaving me to wander the nearby aquarium in nearly silence and peace. I need to head out to the seaplane terminal. Dad should be landing around 4pm. I drive thru the busy streets and annoying driver unconcerned or understanding that this old truck has no get up and go, long past it's rabbit quick days. As I muscle the beast down the highway 99 to Highland Drive. then down Westlake drive to the terminal.

I need a nap, and at least a strong shot of dad's whiskey by the time I pull into the parking lot. Despite the cold, I'm a soaking, smelling mess of sweat, stress and even worse; I have to pee. I shouldn't have drunk all that tea.

The lady at the desk, is frigging wearing my last nerve, first she has to check if Ray's on the flight before she lets me use the restroom, then loudly critiques my cloths, my hygiene, and lastly my hair, stringy and wet from the weather and the drive thru traffic to get here.

At 4:30, she declares the flight was canceled, they never left the San Juan's three hour ago. She could have told me that when I arrived. She chases me out of the office, so she can close it. to escape to a party at some club in town, Mile long or something; she chats ignoring me on her phone. Leaving me, in the hard sleet and high winds of the parking lot on Christmas eve. Great, now I have to scramble to find a motel, with the emergency credit card. I search for something suitable.

I call and call. But it looks like I might be sleeping in the cold truck tonight. Everything is booked, or to dam expensive. I locate an open café back down near Space Needle. I eat a little, stressed by the day, weather and just by my frigging pathetic life.

I muse over my tea and club sandwich. Milking the time, since there closing at midnight. Checking hotels, around the area. I just can't catch a break. I wander thru the cobwebs of my mind. How I struggle with everything of late. School is good, but the prospect of work after is terrifying me. no bites on my resume. No job offers. Kate is sleeping her way thru the trust-fund babies in school on her way to valedictorian.

Since she doesn't have to work like I do. Paul at the hardware store is cruising for a knee to the family jewels if he gets any handier with me. I might have to quit, since I told his brother, my boss about his impropriety touching. I muse over my cold tea. As night falls hard. Looks like I'm sleeping in my truck tonight, in a winter storm about to slam the city.

Take stock, I'm about to graduate with crushing student loans, no job lined up, and none on the horizon. I'm Plain Jane, boring lit major, correction. Massively boring English lit major. No boyfriend, and twenty-two years old virgin. I can't even masturbate right. God why did you curse me. An I forgot my books on my bed back in Vancouver at the condo I share with Kate. So I can't escape into Tess or Wilke Collins thoughts on woman and marriage big chunck of the exam next frigging week.

I stare out windshield into the nearly horizontal sleet as the gale force winds search for victim's like me. I'm lost in downtown Seattle. I finally found a motel. Up north in the Fremont section of town. Marco Polo Motel, cheap and has one room left. A last-minute cancellation, thank god. A jogger passes me on the road. It's a sad state of Ray's truck that a jogger leaves me in the dust.

I watch the jogger plow straight into a parked car, then another and another till he rest face down in the street. I stop looking around. No one is about, not another person or car. I get out into the staggering cold and wind. Making my way to him, he's mumbling and crying. An Adonis begging to die. I step back, Whoa! He looks up into the falling rain, eyes glazed over. Lost inside his pain. He tried to get up, but falls and falls till I help him to a standing position, leaning between me, and a car.

He drunk, how the hell did he run so fast. He's lost, no ID or anything. He can't even tell me his name. just mumbling weird illogical shit and staring at my chest. I tilt his head up, and grey eyes hold me frozen in time and place. "heey don't tou_ me. your mine, pretttty girl. kiss _you_like_my playroom, fuc_uo_bow_eggy" I blush as I dechiper the real words from his slur. My mind rebels, as my inner goddess jumps up and boogies.

My mind fills in the blanks. _Hey don't touch me, pretty girl kiss me. your mine! I would like something in his playroom._ I'm not sure, I suck pretty bad at Xbox and PlayStation _. He wants to fuck me bow legged_ , I wet in that place I seldom think about. His hand caress my breasts. Stroking my back, driving me into lust. Driving me into overload of emotions and needs. I'm horny for this Adonis looking drunk, college kid. Alone with a god fallen to earth, in a deserted street in Seattle on Christmas morning.

My inner evil twin takes over, moving the big lug to the truck, driving to the motel. I get us checked in. luck the room is on the ground floor, with a parking space in front. I get the smelly god into the bath room. Leaning in the shower, snoring. I put the heater on full blast, retrieve my tote bag, I didn't bring any cloths, since we were supposed to be home in Montesano tonight, today. Fuck it. I strip to my panties and bra.

Lust wetting me, making me brave. I strip him out of his cloth. Shit, he's really drunk and dirty. He shit himself sometime during the run. Gross, and yet it sparks me. I feel this need to comfort, heal him. Like I am connected to him. God his body is hot, muscled and ripped. Like the statue of David. I wash the cloths best I can, wring and hanging them near the heater on the chairs. Hopefully dry by morning. A few hours away.

I return, lather up a wash cloth, move him to let the Hot water spray us. I strip out of my panties and bra; my panties need to dry some before bed. My inner evil twin pops on my shoulder screaming fuck him, the Adonis. This is the only time a hot guy like this will want me.

My good girl nun twin pops on the other. Smiling, happy. Talking in logical terms for me to fuck his brains out, enjoy the night, at least till dawn. I let my freak out as Kate says. Washing him, clean. Feeling his body. He's rock hard with my touch, murmuring sexy words of love, and need.

I let my wicked mind lead my hands to his cock, stroking and lathering the beast, cleaning my property. I wash his chest, he leans back on me. I lick the water from his back, tickling his spine. He ejaculates on the wall. Neither touched his cock when it spurts on the wall. I watch it go on and on. I feel him shutter and shutter as his load hitting the shower wall is terrifying and impressive. The Porn Kate made me watch our freshman year, to try to convince me to lose my V-card. Is nowhere close to Adonis ability.

Sitting him on the toilet I dry him with the thin towels. I dress in my t-shirt and panties, still damp. I rake hi hair with my finger enjoying the feel and emotions it causes in us, I see it affects him to this electric current between us.

He drags me on his lap, kissing and ravaging me, with just his hands and lips. I open and do battle with his tongue. He lifts me and moves me to the bed. Pulling my shirt off, lands him on his butt. Smelling the shirt and laughing at himself. Hell, I laugh at him, my horny Adonis clown. He works around to his knees and licks and tease up my legs.

Till his head and more importantly his mouth in outside my sex. Thru my panties I feel his hot breath. I grab his hair and pull him deeper into me. I open my eyes is shock as his tongue and lips molests my now uncover panties. I see them torn on the bed. I shut my eyes and ride the orgasm.

I now see what Kate is addicted too. But I know she has a lot of sex, with a lot fewer orgasms. Adonis is still using me, grabbing my nipples. I explode and explodes as he commands my life and body right here and right now. Defiantly nothing like Kate talked about. My mind short circuit and I dream into sleep.

I wake to a new round of orgasms, I drag him up, looking into eyes shining with emotions and I hope one is love. I nibble all over him, letting my freak out, branding him. Lucky Kate always stores condoms in my purse. I leave my Adonis in bed, staring at me. I get the damm thing and work it on his big cock. I drool at the felony I'm about to do.

He's too wasted, to consent to this, so I steel myself to rape my Adonis. His hands plea and beg me to mount him. I position and slowly slide on him; pain and sharp regret are fleeting points of light. I slide down over his hot cock, stretching my womb, hitting all the right spots and paces. . I slowly ride it, fast and deeper till I pound him, wild, like a bull rider. I let the world disappear to just him and me. two lost souls trying to hold on to this moment of bliss and love.

The storm ravages till dawn. I wake to find myself alone, Adonis cloths are gone, he's gone. just like that in the morning. I lay back ashamed and hurt he left. Not understanding what happened and why. But the things I did last night creep a smile to my face. I let the freedom and memories comfort me. we connected, we loved and I was loved. I smirk to my inner goddesses, watching her purr content on her couch.

I wash, feeling the physical reality of last night, my hand touches my swollen and well used sex, bring me to a orgasm just on the memories of his touch, kisses. My body is cover in hicks. I remember covering his a well, the small round scars on his chest and back. He begged me to kiss and heal. The pain we rock each other about the evil family, mothers, and friends invading our life's. Crippling us, making us loathe and doubt ourselves and others.

Dressing minus my panties, I wait Dad at the seaplane building. It's not open, so I muse sitting in the cold truck, the heater needs replacing with the fan, sipping tea. Lounging in the post sex bliss, but pissed off he left without a note or anything. Dad arrives and we drive home, the custom month long build in the private house on Orca island is done. A good bit of money. Enough to help me thru the semester. And get dad that new fishing reel is desires.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

May 23

Kate is sick, so I have to drive into Seattle and due the interview she's bitched at all semester, this was supposed to be in February, but he the CEO of Grey enterprise and holding. Inc. postponed till the week before exams. I need to be home studying, not listening to some inflated ego asshole preen and spout his rich fiends, exotic vacations, and business triumphs.

I dread the interview looking up at his Arc de Triumph of a building. He's old, and ugly, probability a creep uncle type guy. With a twenty-something trophy wife. I walk in getting shift to one receptionist after another.

Arriving on the 20th floor, it cold, sterile lacking in any warmth or humanity. It intimidates me. The blonde Stepfford wives' clones is designer cloths. Makes my Walmart cloths seem cheap and out of place. The head clone leads me to a large imposing wood door. Opening I walk in.

I stare, stumble and land on my knees. Adonis runs at me, sliding on his knees. Kissing me. the charge, the emotions, everything else is gone, but me, him, us! I just cuddle into him, biting his neck, marking my territory. I hear the door slam shut behind me.

He turns me on my back, on the floor, under his ravaging hands, mouth. We are two beasts in need of the other. I see my torn panties floating in the air. I fling his torn boxer brief toward the desk. We fuck, and in the middle of other lust. Crash into slow sensual love making. Caress and kisses, just like the hotel in the storm Christmas day.

note: this is all there is. the only place for me to take the story is to copy the original FSOG plot line. it would get boring and unworkable. just a poor copy of the story. I can't see a HEA or a workable shift in Characters without going off the rails in my imagination. so I'm sorry if you want more. if someone with more talent wants to take over the story, please do. i hope you enjoyed the little my poor talents could come up with.

deacon lost


	3. Chapter 3 Fallin angels

Fallin angels

The jungle was steaming under the unseen noon sky. We hunkered down, waiting for the cartel's mules to pass by. We have been trailing them for four days thru the Colombia Highlands. The LT. is green, a little too green for this shit. Regan has got his panties in a bunch over the drug cartels. The "Just say No" bullshit has let the crack fiends loose in the inner cities.

August 1983, cartel processing plant #49: near the border with Brazil and Venezuela.

The aftermath of a failed mission, is four bags waiting for the Colonel to airlift out. Nine men when into the jungle twelve days ago. Three are walking out, two are dust-off, four are dead. The Lt. was to green, too needing to prove himself. Earn his political clot having served in combat, even the prissy little drug wars. We paid the price, for his inexperience and rash decision. We always pay the price, whether it be president actor, or general wanting to be president. We noncom's pay the price.

The old bird floats down, shit the Colonel pet dog jumps out, newly railroad tracked Steele. I watch him talk to the Murphy the radioman, going home without a leg, Tranncera without a face. He walks up to me. I just deck his sorry ass, the former team leader. I trained him, these men. Now their dead, because he allowed a REMF (Rear Area Mother Fru##$ #K) moron to put the green political kid in for this mission. I will make it my passion to see Captain Raymond Steele remembers every day these men, and his failing them.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

1992: ft. bragg NC.

I watch the newly majored Steele swing a little girl on the small playground of officer housing. She sequels in delight with her step father, for how long, I doubt it will last. The Majors wife was pulling a train in the Juniors' Officer Club all weekend. We deploy back to Saudi, tomorrow. Sadam needs watching.

I should fuck the bitch, but she' to skank for even me. besides I just got back from Seattle, where Thomas's ten-year-old kid lives. I promised him while he died. I'd look up the girl, help her out. the letter about the kid came too late, after we'd deployed. I was too late, by the time I found her, she was dead, the kid gone. Now he's living the good life in a happy home. Thomas would have been happy.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seattle: Christmas day.

I watch the kid run for his life, or more correctly away from himself. What a fuck up he's become, Sex, alcohol, even family have ceased to matter to him. I watch him race pass an old truck, in this winter storm. He crashes into several cars, laying in the street. As soon as the GMC passes by, I'll pick him up and take him home.

The truck stops, A tiny girl gets out, stagger to help him up. they look like lovers. He must be wasted to let her touch his chest, back. She takes him away in the battered GMC. I run the plates, she takes him to a hotel in the northern sector of town. I wait, watching, as dawn tormented by the last punches of the storm breaks. I don't frigging believe it. Shit! I move to hotel room door, careful pick the lock, and enter. I use the knock out spray to tank both. Getting Christian up, I dress him, the girl looks like her mother. I hope she not a copy. I have to hurry. The spray only last about hour. Driving away I wonder what I should do with Christian. I use the inhaler, he'll be out till dinner. I back track and wait for the girl.

She emerges, picks up stepdad at the seaplane port in Union lake. I trail them home to Montesano. I dump lover boy at the Ferris wheel. I head home to plan and research what just happened. I need to understand.

At home:

I wash the dye from my blonde hair, straight my bra. I like these tits, there soft, realistic. Only Roz knows I was born a boy, lived a soldiers' life. Now I'm finally comfortable being a girl. I was always skinny, kind of girly as a boy and man. It made me a very good killer. Very aware of my movements and strengths. The surgery was brutal, finishing what a stray round caused. The transitions were harsh, giving up old friends, old ways, finding a new me, new legend to hide my former life.

I smirk in the mirror. That artillery blast in the empty quarter changed my life. The army paid for a new face, new body, finished my transfer from male to female, even my first tits. Retrained me to a corporate world. If only my girlfriends knew I was man once.

I walk into GEH, up to my desk just outside Roz's door. I'm Claudine Maxwell, her PA. Andrea slide in from her round robin sex fest in Aspen. She's sparking three very fit men around her age. They all know, and as long as the ice princess gives it up, they don't care.

I watch Grey rumble in with Taylor behind him, today in the first day back at work, January 2, 2010. I prep Roz things, waiting to hear the lasts gossip about her and Gwen. We cover the issues, Christian is hunting for the girl. I make dam sure they can't meet.

June 2010.

Christian is going south to WSU to give the degrees, I've done everything possible to limit and remove the steels from his world, and vice versa. I nearly faint when Steele walks on the floor of GEH twenty-floor, what the frigging hell is she going here.

She enters, trips and lands on her face, scrambling to her knees. Christian slide into her arms, kissing her, slamming the door shut. I want to kill someone right now. The world collides at Andreas desk, the question fly. A Miss Kavanagh was supposed to be doing a interview for the WSU paper. Taylor shots that down, Kavanagh is blonde, the girl in Christian office is brown haired. I nearly lose it saying her name. I walk into the ladies' room a cry. I fail Thomas again.

Three hours later the couple exit the office, I see unconditional love on their faces. Hopes and dreams that were not there before. I wash my mind of what I want, and go with what their face tells me. their going on a long and bumpy ride called love. I dab a tear from my eye, these hormones really frigging screw my moods.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roz-pov

Claudine was my PA for twenty years till cancer took her. No one knew she was born a male. It wasn't till Teddy was born did I learn the true of why she worked for me. She was Christian Godfather; his father had not abandon Ella. He'd died in the jungle fighting a forgotten war in a nameless place. Gwen's uncle/aunt proved very loving and caring to us. I watch the urn lowered into the grave.

I made Christian and Anna come with me. here to this quiet plot in the military cemetery. I hold Claude, my third child, as his namesake is covered in dirt. We wander back thru the headstones to the cars. I leave my family. Walking the short steps to Christian. I hand him Claudine scrapbook, and letter to him.

He reads the letter as the heaven open up in a downpour. He falls down and cries bitter tears. Teddy down from Harvard helps his father up. I pick up the soaked letter.

 **Dear Christian: I was born Claude Sinclair Blackwell: I am your Godfather: I held your father while he died in the drug wars in Colombia: he didn't abandon Ella or you! I was too late to save her and you. I've done the best I could to help you, support you and make your world brighter. Sometimes I failed, mostly I succeed.**

 **Your father last thought, breath was his love for you. The son he would never see. His headstone at Arlington show the silver star with V. We walked there ten years ago, I laid flowers on it, remember. We cried for him, me as his friend, you as my friend. Go back and cry for your father, take Teddy and Samuel. Understand we love you.**

 **I wish I had the courage in life too tell you, ease your pain and burdens. But I could not. I've done things for you and Anna and the kids. To atone for my failures. I beg you look at me in hindsight with love, compassion and family warmth. Your father's letters are in the book, with mine.**

 **Forever loving you, your godfather**

 **Claudine Maxwell-Blackwell**

I hand the page to Anna in the car, holding her husband. Gwen rubs my back. I close the door, a let the rain wash my tears and pains for my friend, PA, kinsman. We wander back to our car; the kids comfort us. I watch the headstone drift by, wondering how many were his friends.


End file.
